Monday, December 31, 2018

When it’s Not All Fun and Games – My Real Life Year

I sat with my daughter on Christmas Eve sharing some alone time. I asked her to name her highs and lows of 2018, and she was quick to respond. When it was my turn, I easily named the low point of 2018 but trying to identify a high point in 2018 had me turning silent. I couldn’t think of one. The hard parts of our lives sometimes outweigh the good times, and 2018 was like that for me.

I’ve seen friends posting their “Top Ten” fabulous things of 2018, and that’s great. Maybe I’ll share my own later. But if I’m being honest, I can list the hard experiences of 2018 far more easily than the good times.

In June my friend Lori died. Putting this at the top of my “lows” cannot describe how this played out in my heart and life. Hurt and sadness and loneliness and confusion were the boss of me for a long while. It’s six months later and while the hurt lessens, I’m still confused. Yesterday, I thought to myself, “I’ll call Lori and ask . . ." This happens all the time. Part of me wants to be done hurting, but a bigger part of me wants to never stop missing her. I can hear her laughter even now while writing. I can pause and bring it up in my mind. I’m so grateful. And I still hurt.

There were other hard experiences in 2018. Not all are listed here, because, you know, I want you to have a good day. . . 

On February 1, 2018, I dislocated my shoulder while running alone in the hills near our house. This clearly showed I’m not as tough as I thought. There was screaming and crying and lot’s of, “Why does this hurt so much?” to every person I encountered at the hospital. Finally, the ER nurse responded, “You’ve dislocated your shoulder, of course it hurts!” I’m just saying, avoid this injury. The pain is fierce and the recovery long, and physical therapists are not as nice as you think. . . 


this daughter from whom I learn so much
So here is what I came up with for my 2018 high points.

I watched my daughter live through a difficult and painful situation and push her way out to the other side stronger and wiser and kinder and braver. And I’m so incredibly proud of her. So grateful for her dependence on Jesus and her willingness to learn and make hard choices and look pain in the face. These are not easy things.

The loss of my Lori brought me closer to our shared group of friends, and I am wildly grateful for these women. To be loved by them is a gift indescribable.

Pain and loss and hard times can bring a marriage closer or push it apart.  I’m incredibly grateful for my husband’s extreme faithfulness and love. His desire to share my pain and do things that healed my soul - even taking up backpacking at age 53 - is a gift I want to live with forever.

Could we just be honest and share our ugly stuff and not just our pretty times. How many times have I looked at Facebook and come away sad or feeling left out or like I’m clearly doing life wrong? Life cannot be as perfect and pretty as we make it look on social media. Last week I stopped following a writer whose work I love, because her posts made me long for what I don’t have. You guys, if you follow people on social media who make you feel worse about yourself and your life, stop it! The world is hard enough.

I read one chapter from the book of Psalm in the Bible before I pray each morning. Today, December 31, 2018, I read Psalm Chapter 13 and it seemed written just for me:
Psalm Chapter 13

How long, O LORD? Will you forget me forever?
How long will you hide your face from me?
How long must I take counsel in my soul
and have sorrow in my heart all day?
How long shall my enemy be exalted over me?

Consider and answer me, O LORD my God;
light up my eyes, lest I sleep the sleep of death,
lest my enemy say, “I have prevailed over her,”
lest my foes rejoice because I am shaken.

But I have trusted in your steadfast love; 
my heart shall rejoice in your salvation.
I will sing to the LORD,
because he has dealt bountifully with me.


God has dealt bountifully with me, and I look forward to 2019 because of him.


Lori

No person has taught me more about
Jesus and his love than Lori


forever grateful for the love of these women




Instagram photo says, "Backpacking
looks like this - all smiles and fun"

actual real life photo says, "Climbing 2500 feet
up a mountain makes me want to throw up"

Instagram photo, "A dislocated shoulder is no problem"


actual photo, "My shoulder doesn't work anymore
and therapy hurts!"

my girls
grateful


Monday, July 2, 2018

When Love Wins Everyone Wins

We live in a brutal world. Maybe you’ve noticed. Sometimes I try to trick myself into thinking the hard things that happen are just a season. Life will get easier, less painful, kinder to my heart. This isn’t true.

The truth is, every day brings incredible joy and incredible pain. Last week we said goodbye to one of my dearest friends.  Yet that day which brought extreme pain and sadness also brought laughter and joy. I held onto the love of my husband and children. I laughed with my friends. I smothered five year old David with kisses and grabbed on tight to him as he giggled.


David

At the memorial, I watched my young Congolese friends sing, and was awed by their courage and kindness.



The following day, I woke exhausted, worn down by grief and busyness. I woke ready to tackle a new day.  A day filled with getting four young refugee children to summer camp. Yet I also woke to news reports of nine refugees being stabbed while celebrating a child’s birthday. How can this be the world we live in? Quickly I checked to see if I knew any of the injured. I did not. Relief followed, then horror that anyone could harm those who have suffered so much already. Who had already fled violence and death.

A dear friend messaged me, “Why does this happen?” My first thought was, “The light has come into the world and the darkness cannot overcome it.” John 1:5 I thought, “I must do a better job of loving people.” Sure, I do a pretty good job of loving the people I already love. My family, my friends, my bigger family of Congolese refugees. But honestly I don’t do a good job of loving those I view as unloveable, unworthy. Where does that fit into my life?

Because we all own the hatred that has become commonplace in our country. 

Since the last presidential election, which seemed to push us even farther away from each other, I have been asking God to help me truly love each person. Especially to help me love the person who appears to be the opposite of me. The person who doesn’t want refugees in our country, the person who attends a White Supremist Rally, the person who wants to hurt my gay friends. 

I can be so quick to judge. It feels like my right because I’m the "better person.”  I’m so quick to blame. So quick to believe I am, of course, the kinder person because of how I voted or who I spend time with. But since I’ve begun praying specifically for these feelings to break down, for my heart to embrace anyone I previously considered unlovable, a strange thing has happened. I have actually begun to love those I previously allowed myself to hate. This is only Jesus. This isn’t me.

I hope we will accept that we are all the same. All deserving of love. I hope we will all look around and love those who believe differently.  I hope we will become uncomfortable listening to anyone speaking badly about those “on the other side.” That we will stop those conversations, those jokes that seem so funny but really are just cruel. I hope we will choose to love. 

Only love can eradicate hate. There is no other way. There is no MY way that fixes this broken world. There is only the way of Jesus. And that way is love.

I hold onto this as I open my heart each day to the incredible joy and the terrible sadness that is every day life.

Sunday, July 1, 2018

Always Say the Words

Yesterday we said goodbye to my dear friend, Lori. Lori left us Monday after a long battle with breast cancer. Two weeks before Lori died, I gave her this letter. At her memorial service yesterday my daughter read this letter. I struggled with whether or not to share this here, and I do so only to honor Lori and to share how well life can be lived. Lori chose to live well and for others. Also, if you loved Lori and didn't get the chance to share with her the words in your heart, please take these words and make them your own.

June 13, 2018

My dearest Lori,

I hope it’s okay that I’ve typed these words and not handwritten them, but tears don’t smear digital letters like they do handwritten letters.

I’m going to start by sharing the two verses I pray for you each day:
Psalm 23:4 “Even if I go through the deepest darkness, I will not be afraid, LORD, because you are with me.” Oh Lori, I pray you feel the love and presence of Jesus so real and tangibly every moment.
Psalm 71:14 “But I will hope continually and will praise you yet more and more.” I pray for extreme trust, peace and joy to live deep inside you. And always I pray for healing.

Oh Lori, every week when I have the privilege of spending my day with you, I want to tell you everything in my heart and all you mean to me; but I know if I open my mouth to say these things, only sobs will emerge. Such is the way of me. I’m grateful God has given us the written word.

You know, I know you do, how much I love you. Without you, a big gaping hole will forever be in my heart. I will miss your laughter (oh your laughter!) and incredible wit and silliness, your wisdom, our last minute coffee dates at Janjou, our hikes and XC skiing, your gentle words of guidance and sometimes even correction, and of course the pictures we text each other of our meals (at least we aren’t posting them on Instagram).

My first memory of you is when Rebecca and Madelon were in first grade together and you sent an invitation to the parents for coffee at your house. I was annoyed and felt a great deal of FOMO ☺ that I couldn’t come, because I was attending Boise State. I felt pretty sorry for myself.

I’d never had a friend like you before, someone who prayed for me and showed me a new and friendlier, more loving Jesus. There are some moments we’ve shared that are so clear in my mind. Once at my house in the Highlands, when Caleb was a teenager, I mentioned I was worried about how difficult it would be for our children to find spouses who followed Jesus and had the example growing up of a good family life. And you replied this didn’t worry you because the Holy Spirit can conquer anything. You probably don’t know this, but your words changed my life that day. Truly, changed the way I live. I began to let God out of the box I’d put him and really let him have power over my life. My world changed that day because of your words. I’m so grateful.

There is another memory that plays so clearly in my mind. We were in the garage of your home on the bench, painting corn toss boards for the Ambrose auction. Steve was with us and you snapped at him (I'm such a good friend for bringing this up). I remember being startled. Wait, what? My Lori also gets annoyed with her husband. This made me feel so good and normal (I know. Such a good friend).

I hope it’s ok that I refer to you as “my Lori” when I pray. I know there are many who come before me and that you belong first to Jesus, then Steve, Madelon, Tom, Jack and so many others. But Lori this is just how it is with you. You have loved us all so well. The rest of us Wonder Women joke that we each feel like your best and closest friend. This is just how good you are at loving us. We live in this love of yours and give Jesus all the glory for bringing us together into this little band of women.

A few years ago when I started to speak at church – some might even say preach! Your support and encouragement and validation gave me courage and kept me returning to the pulpit. I have never spoken at church without you praying me through it. The first time I preach without you praying me through the week before and day of, is something I cannot let myself think about. Maybe put in some extra prayers for me now that I can always hold onto. I really do love you so much. 

But here’s the thing I want you to recognize and hold inside yourself. I hope. I pray you know how much you have changed the world for good. I know this is Jesus living inside you, but I hope you will let yourself dwell upon the way you have impacted this world with your life. The choices you’ve made, the way you have loved others, the time you have given to others, the incredible way you can see what others need – your unselfishness – all of these things have made this world a better place. You have loved well and your love lives inside hundreds, maybe thousands of people. You have lived the royal law of love that is the way of following Jesus. Lori, Jesus is so proud of you. I know he is.

Hold onto this and the rest of us Wonder Women will laugh with you and love with you again. There are many tears ahead of us, but I know Jesus is bringing us more laughter and better days than we have ever known. And I will hold onto this.

Your forever grateful, forever loving you friend, 
Shawna

PS: There is a pile of tissue on my desk and poor Daphne Dog is pretty worried about all the tears. Maybe put Archie outside when you read this. Oops, I should have said that at the beginning. My bad.

Wednesday, April 18, 2018

When Darkness Closes In

Note: This was written August 11, 2017. Today, the darkness isn't closing in on me and I am wildly grateful. It is my true desire that in sharing my life, hope will be passed on to another who struggles.

Depression is a cruel thing. Sometimes depression makes sense to me. The first time I lived in this darkness it made sense. I had just received a second diagnosis of melanoma, I was working at a job I hated, my husband was out of work, our son had gone away to college, leaving me wondering what my purpose was. It kind of made sense that I fell into the dark place.

But this summer depression has made another hard run at me, and it makes no sense. My life is lovely. Our son is newly married and living  just ten minutes away from us in Boise. Our new daughter in law is a delightfully perfect fit for our family. Our daughter is a joy and finishing her nursing degree. Life is secure and filled with friends who love us and care about our lives. I’m not sick. We are financially secure. I have the rare blessing of being in control of my days.

I feel guilty being sad like this. It seems self-centered and such an unkind thing to put my family through. Again.

Yet as much as I try and try and try to be free of it, here I am.

And I worry. I worry my family will get tired of "sad me." That my friends will stop calling, because who wants to be around this. I don’t.

I’m hesitant to talk about this thing that’s happening to me. Depression seems like a cliche. Something everyone is doing - like being hipster.

And yet I know this terrible thing I struggle to be free of has made me a kinder person. I judge less, perhaps hoping I will be judged less.

I hold onto the hope that my time in this dark place will pass. It always has. I must believe it will again. Maybe when I’m sitting on the other side of this darkness, I’ll look back and see I’ve learned new stuff, become a better person, stronger, kinder, more forgiving (of myself even). Right now, though, I hate this place. I want to laugh and soak in the good stuff happening all around me. It’s not fun. And it’s awful for my husband.

Yesterday, I sat in my favorite coffee shop downtown and a homeless man was sitting next to me. He started talking to me, asking about the book I was reading. I looked at him and wondered how often people like me really see him. Really hear him, so I put down my book and gave him my full attention. We had an odd conversation. He bounced from one random topic to another, and I followed where he led. After fifteen minutes of talking and laughing, I wished him a good day and said goodbye.

I left him there in the coffee shop, glad I had given him part of my day, knowing that in my own brokenness I too need the kindness, the understanding, the attention of those around me.

I left hoping I can stay focused on the road ahead, trusting it will get better.

For You LORD are a shield around me, my glory and the One who lifts up my head. Psalm 3:3